


The Choking Tower

by JackBivouac



Series: Iron Gods [3]
Category: Dungeons & Dragons (Roleplaying Game), Original Work, Pathfinder (Roleplaying Game)
Genre: Bondage, Cages, Double Penetration, Electrocution, Forced Orgasm, Ghost Sex, M/M, Master/Servant, Masturbation, Multi, Other, Rape, Robot Sex, Teratophilia, Torture, Voyeurism, Worms
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-04-04
Updated: 2019-04-13
Packaged: 2020-01-04 12:40:41
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Rape/Non-Con
Chapters: 4
Words: 2,857
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18343889
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/JackBivouac/pseuds/JackBivouac
Summary: The adventures of Rzel imprisoned within the Choking Tower





	1. The Life of Clockwork

The only thing keeping Rzel going was forgetting everything that had happened back in the Black Hill Caves, even if that meant pretending like their own half-brother never existed. Rzel had to get back to the city of Starfall, back to the Technic League base.

As they crossed from plains of dry, yellow grasses into dark, shadowed forest the half-elf caught the distinctive whir of clockwork machinery. Rzel cursed and darted deeper into the trees, weaving to either side to lose their pursuer. It was their only option--all they had were the plaid and overalls they’d stolen off some farmstead.

The whirring closed in, tearing through the air over Rzel’s pounding pulse and ragged breath. In their fear, the half-elf ran chest-first into a low branch. They were thrown onto their back, breasts sore and ribs bruising.

Four sleek, many-jointed metal arms seized Rzel by the wrists and shoulders, pinning them to the ground with their arms overhead. An entirely featureless face of brass framed by the hood of a mage’s cloak “looked” down at them.

“You trespass upon the grounds of Lord Furkas. You have been apprehended and will be detained for--”

“Furkas? That legend of a Technic League agent working on some kind of living smoke or something?”

The robotic apprentice paused, calculating. “You have been apprehended and will be detained for questioning. Please do not resist.”

“Sure, fine.”

It had to be THAT Furkas. All advanced technology in Numeria belonged to the Technic League thanks to the decree of their techno-phobic king. Whom the Technic League kept in a permanent fugue state through his drug addiction…

Anyway, Furkas the Legend was bound to have clothes and spellbooks to lend his fellow agent, maybe even a decent blade. Rzel had never gotten behind guns. Why use a gun when wands were a hundred percent more reliable?

With that reasoning, Rzel offered no resistance as the robotic apprentice drew them up off the ground, snapped their forearms into a binding metal sheath behind their back, and threw the restrained half-elf over her shoulder. 

The robot whirred up into a hover off the ground and flew them through the trees to a circular clearing. A tower of metal and stone, stained with greasy soot, rose high over the darkened treetops. Its roof was a crowned with a forest of pipes and chimneys belching smoke into the overcast sky. Its few windows were narrow and slatted with thick metal grills. Its only door was a thick, featureless slab of metal.

The door slid open to either side as the robot levitated close. She toted Rzel into what could only be Furkas’ lab. A foul, musky smell permeated the entire chamber. One wall was crammed with hundreds of metal cages. 

A partially disassembled robot laid across a lab table. The lower half was intact, but the four arms were disconnected from the torso, and the torso and head were spread out into their component parts. The remains of several other dismantled automatons laid in heaps around the table.

Black rubber hoses led from the door to a large machine against the other wall. The interior of the machine’s vacuum chamber was visible through the blood-smeared glass door. A desiccated corpse slumped against the glass, its fingernails shattered.

The robot slid Rzel into the largest of the cages, which was the size of a casket. They had to lie down with only inches between their face and the grimy bars above.

“Wait here,” she said.

Rzel rolled their eyes. Like they had a choice.

The robot floated out of the lab. Not five minutes later, she returned.

“That was fast,” said Rzel. “Where’s Furkas?”

“He’s going to be a while,” a very different voice intoned from the robotic apprentice. It was lower and raspier. “Until then, it’s my turn to play doctor.”

Given the experiments and apparati around the lab, Rzel shouldn’t have been surprised that Furkas had assembled at least one deranged robot. Their eyes still widened in horror as a long, segmented metal cock descended from between his sleek metal legs.

“No! No, no, no! Furkas! Furkas! Other robot!” Rzel screamed in rising terror.

The deranged robot landed with a clank and whirr, dust poofing up around his feet. He squatted like a four-armed ape at the foot-end of Rzel’s imprisoning cage. He opened the small door and seized the half-elf by the ankles. He dragged their legs out and around him, leaving the other half of their body trapped from the waist up between the metal bars.

Rzel roared like an animal, kicking and thrashing with all their might. Their head, chest, and useless hands banged against the too-close bars of the cage. They didn’t care.

Neither did the robot. With a rasping chuckle from his featureless mask of a face, two metal hands slammed Rzel’s thighs down, pinning them in an iron grip against the lab floor. A third hand straightened and closed into a blade. He cut the crotch off of Rzel’s overalls, baring their most vulnerable flesh.

The fourth, final hand guided his segmented trunk of a cock into Rzel’s dry pussy. The half-elf shrieked at the stiff, heavy metal tearing through their walls with the heated force of an actual impaling sword.

The robot’s third and fourth hands grabbed the top bars of the metal cage, bracing. With an unmistakably deranged howl of laughter, he rammed Rzel’s cunt right to the helpless mouth of their womb, pounding their flesh to a pulp against the floor of the lab.

Rzel screamed and sobbed themself hoarse at the machine’s unbearable heat and pain. Their voice choked out into labored huffs of breath, their throat as raw as their mercilessly raped cunt.

“No, no, no,” mocked the robot. “Let’s have a little more life out of you, meatbag.”

He grunted with a womb-nailing thrust. Hot, thick grease spurt from the narrow slit of metal dick. With it, a burst of electricity directly into the rawed nerves of Rzel’s shaft.

Their eyes bulged, toes and fingers clenched, as the robot’s shock in their cunt forced their entire body into convulsion. Rzel’s electrocuted pussy walls clamped shut around their rapist’s dick and wrang him dry for every last drop of his greasy cum.

“That’s more like it,” said the robot, giving Rzel’s mound a patronizing pat. He pulled out, leaving a black leak dripping from their swollen slit.

Then, being a robot, he immediately stiffened himself and drove his raping dick into Rzel’s anus. The half-elf’s hoarse screams didn’t last, quickly choking out into breathless sobs. Which weren’t nearly as fun.

The deranged robot cackled and shocked them again up the full shaft of their ripping anus. That bouncing, quivering, desperate spasming as Rzel was forced to submit to orgasm after mind-breaking orgasm--that was fun.

He switched from hole to hole, raping them until it seemed that the half-elf had somehow sprung a grease leak from their swollen, burning holes. The robot pulled Rzel’s limp, utterly drained body fully out from the cage.

He cut away their plaid and overalls to rove his hands over their intriguingly soft and curved flesh, glistening with scented sweat. The robot, holding their hips in his upper hands and their breasts in his lower hands, straddled their face and plunged his dick into their weakly protesting mouth.

The robot pounded and shocked their broken throat, watching in fascination as their legs went rigid with twitches and quivering, a mix of Rzel's slick with his black cum oozing out between them. He felt their every spasm travelling from their hips and breasts up through his arms. They shook him, ever-so-slightly, to his clockwork core. 

For a brief, exultant moment, the nameless robotic apprentice felt alive.


	2. Death by Snu-Snu

The mage-robed Furkas stood and swaggered around the alchemical workshop like any short-tempered sorcerer of his ilk, but his body was a writhing mass of squirming, slippery worms. 

The human-fleshed Furkas had suffered a fatal accident months ago. The graveworms devouring his flesh, however, became inhabited with his soul and genius, resulting in a hivemind of wriggling life known as a worm that walks. His mass of worms clung to the gaunt frame he’d inhabited in human life as well as his memories, ambition, and magical prowess.

At the news of the trespasser, worm Furkas followed his perfect robotic apprentice back to the lab. Upon the floor of which his imperfect robot was raping the life out of a bronze-skinned, tattooed half-elf with luscious curves. Their clothes laid in tatters on the floor, drenched in a puddle of greasy black cum.

Furkas let out a weary, slightly buzzing sigh. “What are you doing, failure?”

“Feeling alive,” intoned the broken bot, pistoning furiously into Rzel’s throat.

“That’s what makes you feel alive? Brigh’s brassy tits, get out of there. I’ll give you something to feel as soon as we deal with this.”

The failure gave the half-elf’s throat one last, electrocuting burst and pulled out. His black cum splattered all over Rzel’s face and hair. 

Furkas crouched down by their sloppy, raggedly-breathing head. “Who are you? Why were you on my property?”

Rzel’s mouth gasped open. Their numbed tongue refused to move. Their throat, raped raw, produced nothing but a weak, reedy mewl.

Furkas let out yet another exasperated buzz. “What a fucking waste of time. Apprentice, dump this useless wad of fuckmeat into the vacuum chamber.”

He gave Rzel’s cheek a wormy pat. “You’re experiment fodder now--what an upgrade. You should be very proud.”

His one working bot scooped the half-elf’s filthy, cum-stained body up into two of her arms and opened the door of the vacuum chamber. She tossed out the desiccated corpse and laid Rzel out on the floor on their back. The heavy door clunked shut.

The rubber tubes let out a shuddering wail. A gasping cloud of ghostly forms surged out from the tubes to shroud Rzel’s limp, helpless body. It gushed into their mouth and between the swollen lips of their pussy and anus, shaking Rzel’s head and hips with the force of their ghastly penetration.

The ghosts wailed and beat against the shafts of their throat, cunt, and anus, pummeling Rzel’s rawed, aching walls apart. Each blunt beating pounded clenching spasms into their shafts, through their gut, and up the curve of their spine.

Rzel’s restrained hands twisted into grasping claws behind their arched back. Their strengthless legs flailed and scuffed their heels against the chamber floor. Their belly swelled as the ghosts exploded into their womb, gut, and stomach.

The half-elf’s eyes rolled back into their skull. Drool, blackened by the broken bot’s cum, ran down the sides of their mouth as the ghostly cloud pounded their holes endlessly into orgasm.

Furkas nodded in satisfaction on the other side of the vacuum chamber. His one working apprentice could monitor how long it took the half-elf to die of cum-induced dehydration from the control room. As for the failure…

“Alright, let’s go. Apprentice, you know what to do. Failure, follow me.”


	3. Magical Mystery Tour

The failed robotic apprentice followed Furkas to the top of the tower. The door of the master chamber opened with a cloud of black dust that blew harmlessly past the unbreathing apprentice and the dirt-chomping mass of worms that was Furkas.

In life, Furkas had combined his bedroom with a study. The desk was more dust than wood. Elaborate tapestries thick with more, sound-softening dust adorned the walls. A large bed, frayed and nearly doubled in height by the dust covers, sat against the center wall.

“Lie down,” said Furkas.

The broken bot sat on the edge of the bed, stirring up a thick black cloud into the air.

“Brigh’s clockwork cunt, prestidigit it clean first! Gods, you really are a piece of work, aren’t you?”

The bot’s featureless face bowed in shame. He cast the cantrip, vacuuming the dust off the faded bedcover and into...wherever it was that dirt vanished off to. Then he laid out once more, four arms opened winglike at his sides.

Furkas walked over to the bed, shaking his head. He placed his wriggling worm-palms against the sleek metal soles of the bot’s feet.

“Master?” the bot asked quietly.

“Shhh. Say another word, and I’m calling this off,” Furkas growled with a low buzz.

Furkas’ mass of graveworms crawled out of his magically suspended form and swarmed up the bot’s legs. Their prickling, hooked legs and snapping mandibles scratched up his metal skin from legs to torso, arms, and head. The bot was completely covered inches deep in the itching, biting, wriggling coat of worms.

It was the absolute closest the bot had ever been with his master, his maker, and it filled his inner workings with a metal warmth. The warmth ratcheted up to lances of burning heat as the swarming worms began to churn around his metal dick and exhaust-pipe anus.

The worms dove up his ass pipe in a prickling, pounding wave. They rattled his ass from the inside out. Their hivemind genius precision-aimed the jetting force of their churning bodies right at the bot’s clockwork g-spot.

The bot’s metal hips bucked of their own volition, but the worms around his arms and legs kept his limbs pinned to the bed under their wriggling carpet. It didn’t stop him from bucking with even greater urgency as the worms around his dick threw themselves into a prickling, biting, writhing maelstrom around the full length of his segmented cock.

The graveworms formed a living, fleshy pocket of heat moving so fast around the bot's thrusting cock that their suction churned vacuum-tight. The bot stifled his scream of ecstasy as black, greasy cum spewed into the pocket of worms, followed by an electric burst.

Furkas’ genius directed the bot's shockwave through the path of worms pistoning into his ass. His clockwork g-spot was slammed with the full force of Furkas’ merciless pounding and his own electric orgasm.

The bot had no hope of holding back his scream. His pinned body broke into spasm after shrieking spasm between his master's bed and weighted sheet of writhing worms. The worms continued to suck, pound, and shock, forcing the bot to cum again and again and again.

Down in the basement control room, the robotic apprentice stared fixedly at her master's fucking domination of her broken counterpart's cock and anus. Each visible orgasm sent a Lance of searing heat from her metal snatch into her clockwork core.

The apprentice lowered two hands to her grease-dripping cunt and two behind her to her own anus. With her featureless face enraptured by the robot-worm fucking, she rubbed her holes and stuffed herself with her own many-jointed fists.

“Furkas, Master Furkas, Master,” she moaned with each body-shocking burst of greasy squirts from her cunt.

Furkas, master of the Choking Tower, smiled in the biting mandibles of his worms. His metal children were growing up.


	4. A Temporary Reprieve

With Furkas and his robotic apprentices so thoroughly preoccupied, no one noticed the shadow-hued skulk climbing the stairs to the Furkas’ laboratory. He was the stealthiest they’d never seen.

Braith turned his or their lockpicks on the vacuum chamber. Luckily for him and Rzel, the release of the seal kicked in the automatic failsafe to contain the cloud of ghosts Furkas had worked so hard to cultivate in his lab. The choking, raping ghosts were sucked back into the tube and sealed.

Rzel’s spent body twitched and jerked at their egress. Then laid still and helpless, utterly spent as Braith opened the chamber door. Their eyes met his. They welcomed death.

The skulk, however, put a finger to his lips and turned Rzel over as quietly as he could. He picked open their bonds. Rzel was both too weak and stunned to move as Braith threw them over his shoulder like a sack of naked, sweaty potatoes, and lowered a rope out through the tower window.

Braith rappelled down the greasy side of the tower. Rzel shivered in the chill night wind but said nothing until they were quiet darkness of the surrounding wood.

“You saved me,” they croaked, their voice broken and drained of all moisture.

Braith did not immediately answer. Instead, he held Rzel steady by the waist with one hand and retrieved a waterskin from his pack with the other. He passed it to them before replying. “A temporary reprieve from death. My cousin is looking to kill you. They think you killed our family.”

Rzel tensed on his shoulder. And now he was certain of it.

Braith sighed, keeping his mind locked fully on the task at hand. “It’s not...it’s not what they’d have wanted. We’re better than that.”

“W-what exactly are your intentions…?”

“Braith. I’m gonna take you to court, a real proper court in Starfall. But first we gotta give that gods-damned tower a real wide berth, which means travelling the valley.”

“You ever been to the valley?”

“...no. But you’d rather we stuck to that undead, techno-mage’s woods, Murderer?”

“Rzel. And no, I suppose not.”

Whatever the valley threw at them, it couldn’t be worse than getting recaptured by Furkas and his deranged apprentices. They hoped.


End file.
